


Left Hook

by TheSassBrit



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff without Plot, the graceful conversation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-15
Updated: 2016-02-28
Packaged: 2018-04-26 11:33:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5003206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSassBrit/pseuds/TheSassBrit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cvita Lavellan, the Herald of Andraste, tries to reconcile her thoughts about a certain apostate, and ends up with a surprise instead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Cvita didn’t know what was so special about the apostate. 

He wasn’t remarkable. While it was impressive he was able to hide from Templars most of his life, just like the clans did, nothing else about him stood out.

Yet, she kept paying attention to him. She would watch him as closely as she used to watch her bonded from years ago and she felt a small twinge of pain in her heart whenever she compared the two men. 

He was quiet, nothing like Andruil. 

Andruil was bright and joyful, and rejoiced in the lives their people lived because it was _theirs_. 

Solas was reserved and there was a deep sadness in his eyes whenever she spoke to him about the Dalish, despite his scornful words. 

Andruil loved to run next to her in the forest, exploring the deepest caves with her and vowing to protect her with his sword and shield. 

Cvita bet even she could take on Solas and manage to get the slip on him somehow. 

Yet, there was something that had Cvita glancing toward the apostate’s way whenever she was near him. 

There was a determined, quiet strength that reminded her so much of Andruil it made her heart ache. 

At the Crossroads, Solas immediately broke off from the group to help others, which was exactly what Andruil would have done. 

Creators, she hadn’t thought of Andruil in years. He made her promise to try be happy. He told her not to dwell. He told her to _live_. 

And live she did. 

She and Andruil traveled apart from the clan for years after he became sick. She had to adapt and learn quickly to try to find ways to help him, disguising herself in many different roles. Sometimes she was a servant, sometimes she was a thief. She was whoever she needed to be to get the information to help her beloved. She had cut her dark auburn hair into a style usually kept for men, keeping only an unruly tuff of it on the top of her head. She had to act as a man many times and she didn’t see the point of tucking all of her hair underneath a hat or hood. Her strong jawline and nose helped complete the ruse.

They tried everything from the Western plains of Orlais to the Amaranthine Ocean. 

Nothing could save him. 

When she returned from their journey without him, the Clan was wary of her at first. She strode in with many bags of trinkets from all over Southern Thedas. She even managed to steal books from some of the Circles she managed to sneak into. 

And Solas somehow managed to bring back all of the memories of her bonded and she couldn’t figure out _why_.

Cvita wondered if it was just her bitter, lonely mind trying to tell her something when she first noticed these feelings rising inside of her. 

The Clan never truly trusted her after she returned. They let her hunt still, and she taught the children how to hunt as well. 

But, she was lonely. No man approached her again, nor did she think she would have accepted anything if they did approach her. There were nights she cried in her tent, missing the warmth and strength of Andruil’s arms around her, feeling ashamed because she promised him she would be _happy_. 

She couldn’t remember the last time she truly felt happy. 

One day in Haven changed all of that. 

She found out the apostate had a sense of humor. 

“Is Varric defined by his chest hair and not his wit?”

That did it. 

They were standing outside the gates of Haven, getting ready to depart for Val Royeaux, and Cvita was bored enough to ask him about the spirits he claimed to be friends with. 

Which led them to discuss whether spirits were actual beings or not. 

The fact Solas even mentioned Varric’s chest hair was a left hook out of nowhere and she couldn’t help but laugh. She laughed hard enough to have to double over and clutch at her sides, face red and tears streaming down her cheeks. 

“What is so humorous, da’len?” Solas asked with a laugh himself. 

Cvita finally managed to pull herself together, wiping tears away from her eyes. “Out of all of Varric’s features, you pick his chest hair to use as an example?”

Solas shrugged. “That is one of his defining features. He says so himself.”

Feeling cheeky, she turned toward him, crossing her arms. “What about me?”

Solas tilted his head with a small smirk. “Are you defined by the way you can flick an arrow or a dagger easily at a target? Or by the natural grace in your actions and speech? It’s a pleasing sight either way.”

Cvita was shocked. A sense of humor _**and**_ a smooth talker? Fen’ Harel’s teeth. “You’re suggesting I’m graceful?” she asked, tilting her own head. Two could play at this game. 

He straightened up at looked forward, still smirking. “No. I am declaring it.” He glanced toward her again and Cvita swore she felt a shiver run down her spine from the look in his eye. “It was not a subject for debate.”

Cvita couldn’t remember the last time someone complemented her and actually meant it. She could tell Solas meant every word he just said and she almost didn’t know what to think. 

Quickly regaining her wits, she hummed in thought. “You could have noticed anything else. Like my nose for example. Or the shape of my face. I know they’re not prime examples but they’re examples nonetheless.”

Solas huffed out a laugh. “And you’re suggesting those things aren’t pleasing sights either?”

Before she could splutter out a reply, it was time to go and Cvita found herself on the back of the horse Dennet gave her. 

Creators, how did he just catch her off guard twice?

That _never_ happened to her anymore. 

Maybe there was more to the apostate than she thought.


	2. Chapter 2

Solas wondered what it was about Lavellan that made him stop and stare sometimes. 

When she occasionally walked through his rotunda, he would sneak a glance at her out of the corner of his eye. Sometimes, she would go through to harass the Commander. Their friendship made no sense to Solas. She seemed to do nothing but annoy the man, but they seemed to share personal jokes sometimes. For some reason, Solas’ gut burned with anger when he saw that. 

Other times, she would be coming through to talk to either Dorian or Leliana. Her friendship with the Tevinter mage, he could get. Her relationship with the Spymaster was not something he would delve into, since both women were terrifying in their own ways. 

And by the Void, was Cvita Lavellan terrifying. 

She terrified him because she made him feel things he did not think he would ever feel again. The bubbling, fluttery feeling in his chest was always present with her near. Simple, pure laughter. She managed to drag that out of him occasionally. The need he felt to touch her and be near her was frightening. The inner wolf in him wanted to keep her close and never let her go. 

But that was impossible, and keeping her at an arm’s length away was for the best. 

Not that she seemed to agree, but then again, why would she? He was an elven nomad who could use magic to her, not the one her people called the Dread Wolf. 

She would always stand close enough for him to catch a whiff of the special soap she used. She would occasionally brush her hand against his, causing goosebumps to rise on his skin every time. Sometimes, she would send him a glance and wry smirk that would have his whole body heating up. 

He knew it was a mistake to meet her in the Fade. He knew the kiss was a mistake too. 

Both haunted him.

He told her he needed time, and she agreed to give it to him. 

All of it was foolish, and he berated himself every day for letting these feelings fester and grow. He couldn’t do this to her, not with what he was planning. 

But he found himself yearning to see her bright green eyes, to see the light wash of freckles on her olive skin, to brush his fingers through her auburn hair. All of this he yearned to do, and that terrified him. 

As if his thoughts alone could summon her, she came walking into his rotunda, carrying a book. 

She hummed a little tune as she turned toward the stairs to the library. She halted at the door jamb, looking over her slim shoulder at him. “Did you need something?” she asked, arching a thin brow with a smirk. 

“What?”

“You were looking at me like you needed something,” she explained, turning around and leaning her shoulder against the jamb. 

Solas cleared his throat and stood straight at his spot at the table. Like always around her, he spoke before he thought. “Am I not allowed to look at you, Inquisitor? It would be a shame if I could not.”

Cvita’s smirk grew and she put her free hand on her hip. “You can look all you want. I’m not stopping you.”

But you should, a small voice growled in Solas’ head. 

“Oh? I shall consider myself lucky then.”

Cvita opened her mouth to answer, but the snobbish voice of Dorian cut in. 

“You two are disgusting.”

Cvita stepped out a little and looked up at the Tevinter mage, who was now leaning on the railing on the next floor. “Well exc-uuuuuuse me, darling,” she sardonically said, tossing the book up at him. 

Dorian caught it and flipped through the pages. “Just stating the obvious. How did you like this one?”

Cvita gave him an overexaggerated yawn. “I’ve read something similar to it in Orlais. If that is the best one Tevinter has to offer, I am very disappointed. I thought you could do better Mr Pavus.”

Solas held back a laugh as Dorian spluttered and frowned down at her. “One of these days that mouth of yours is going to get you in trouble.”

Cvita looked at Solas and his whole body felt hot and tingly as her expression became mischievous. “It already has.”

With that, she walked to the other side of the rotunda to step out toward the Commander’s tower. 

Solas stared after her as the door closed. 

“You know she really likes you, right? Good. So GET A MOVE ON IT,” Dorian commented, huffing a little before going back to his business. 

As he stated earlier, Cvita Lavellan was terrifying, and Solas found himself liking it.

**Author's Note:**

> Okie Dokie, I'm starting to plan oneshots for my sister's Lavellan and Solas. Cvita belongs to 124GCode541 on tumblr and she and I are collaborating for the most part. She's giving me Cvita's past and personality and we both think of oneshot ideas to stick her and Solas in. This wont be anything big, mostly oneshots.


End file.
